


It Takes Two to Argue

by Lady_Talla_Doe



Category: Killjoys (TV)
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Arranged Marriage, Attempted Seduction, Forced Marriage, Kidnapping, M/M, Misunderstandings, Political Alliances, Shotgun Wedding, Space Opera, always a hullen!Fancy, hullen as its own race au, two races in harmony (kinda) au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:14:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28525293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Talla_Doe/pseuds/Lady_Talla_Doe
Summary: Attempting to mend the rift between their two distantly related peoples, andvastlydifferent cultures, the Hullen leadership decide aarranged marriagebetween two ranking members of the races is the best approach.But in a mix up of locations, they kidnap a ranking member of the RAC, rather than a member of the Nine.
Relationships: Fancy Lee/Turin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	It Takes Two to Argue

**Author's Note:**

> An AU of self indulgent proportions!   
> the Hullen are their own race in this, no longer truly needing unwilling hosts to turn- due to having unlocked the ability to _rarely_ breed on their own, they may now expand their numbers slowly. For the sake of the story, Annila and Khlyen are both MUCH older but still the original hosts, and Jack is Annila and Kendry's son. his father IS D'avin, it was a voluntary donation. Dutch is Dutch still. 
> 
> Fancy was born a Hullen, into one of the family 'lines' and is considered like the Nine. Turin is himself, but with a healthy fear and distaste of the Hullen, and a wariness of them. for the sake of this AU the level 6 was a thing hundreds of years ago, and the stories are still passed down in the RAC.

* * *

* * *

Not a damn thing ever could have prepared him for this.

Turin backed up a step but there wasn’t anywhere else to go, the wall just barely touching his heel. His – well, not really attackers, since they hadn’t actually _attacked_ him yet, assailants? _Stalkers_?- stopped just outside of striking range, leaving him feeling uncomfortably crowded. They’d used their Hullen speed to cut him away from his killjoys, and now he had no idea where he was but it was clearly where _they_ wanted him to be.

“Come with us.” The bigger one on the left said. Neither offered an explanation.

“The hell I’m coming with you.” He spat, but he kept his gun lowered. He was cornered, and out matched. If he started shit unprovoked, the R.A.C might not rescue him. Nervous sweat crawled slowly down his spine, and he could see one of them wrinkle their nose slightly.

Turin rolled his eyes, and holstered his gun with a colourful curse.

“Just my lucky day.”

~*~

He woke up, which did surprise him, human - again, a surprise! - and with all his own clothes on. He sat up, scanning the room, and his hand automatically touched the butt of his gun. That his fingers didn’t find an empty holster was the only reassuring thing about his morning so far, although being armed only made him uneasy.

Obviously, they didn’t think he was a threat with these weapons, or they wouldn’t have left them on him. He tapped the butt of his gun twice, and then scooted to the end of the bed, wrinkling all the blankets he’d been laying on top of, and placed his feet on the thick throw rug.

The room was almost painfully white, with thick grey beams running across it, and thin grey seams over the floor. A green pipe ran far overhead, the only bit of colour in the over lit room; he had a window at the head of the bed that showed an unfamiliar patch of stars, and a quick circuit of the room revealed a bathing room, and an empty closet. Set in the corner, with a good view out the window, and an equally good view of the door, was a single light grey chair.

Turin’s shoulders slumped, and he pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a tension headache building at the back of his skull.

“This is unsubtle bullshit. I’m not going to sit, and calmly wait for whatever you have planned. Quit wasting my time!” he yelled at the empty room.

Turin stood, fists clenched, as he waited for a reaction. Long minutes passed.

He let out his breathe slowly, and dropped down into the chair with a scowl. _Fine._

_~*~_

_“I’m not stupid. I know you’re watching.”_ The man didn’t yell; after the first moments, he’d not spoken above a conversation tone. _He knows we’re watching_. The short human was sitting in the tall backed chair, tapping his foot slowly on the carpet. His red hair was vibrant in the pale room.

Fancy exchanged a look with Khlyen, as the human looked very nearly into the hidden lens hidden in the seam by the door. It was barely larger than a blemish in the line, he was impressed he had spotted it.

“Shouldn’t we go speak with him? He’s likely frightened. We don’t need to put it off.”

Khlyen gave him a look he was used to receiving; a small smile, like he was fond of him. It also happened to be his expression when he thought whatever Fancy had said happened to be particularly foolish.

“Not unless you want to get shot in the face.” Khlyen nodded at the screen. “He would do it.”

“It’s within his right. We kidnapped him.”

His mentor smiled again, stepping away from him. “We _borrowed_ him. We will return him. When you’re done.”


End file.
